House of the Devil
by AlwaysPadfoot
Summary: AU. Neville comes home one summer and faces a home invasion.


**AN:** Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

 **AN:** AU where Neville's parents were not tortured to insanity in 1981.

 **~o0 WARNINGS: TORTURE 0o~**

* * *

 **House of the Devil**

 **AlwaysPadfoot**

* * *

Neville was always secretly glad when the summer holidays finally descended upon the students of Hogwarts. As much as he loved his friends, and his classes, he was grateful to go home to his parents.

The Hogwarts Express slowed to a crawl as it approached Platform 9 ¾. Neville heaved his backpack onto his shoulders and slid closer to Susan, who had her nose pressed against the compartment window. Her red hair smelt strongly of apples and was plaited neatly on both sides, like she had made an effort. Neville nervously tried to flatten his blonde hair where it was sticking out at the sides. He needed a haircut.

There was a soft noise from the opposite seat. "You two are the worst; you make me feel like I'm an absolute mess, and my parents won't even be there."

Hannah Abbott had one knee pulled up to her chin and was looking at the two of them from over the top of a comic. Neville had noticed that her parents were never at the platform; her older brother and her always went home via the Floo.

Susan huffed and stuck her tongue out at Hannah. "Some people like to not look scruffy"

The blonde girl put a hand to her chest, a false look of horror on her face. "How rude."

Neville often wondered how the two Hufflepuffs had ever become friends. One day, just before Christmas, Susan had come down to breakfast with Hannah in tow. Apparently, there had been some sort of argument in the girls' dormitory, and now, Hannah was their friend. Neville didn't mind. He still found it hard to talk to the boys in his own dormitory — they'd all made fast friends with one another in first year. Neville liked Hannah's sense of humour and the way she cared about her younger brother, writing to him every week. It made him wish he had a younger sibling.

Before the Hogwarts Express had even pulled into the station, Daniel — Hannah's elder brother — came and collected her so that they could get to the Floo before everyone else. This left Susan and Neville alone, moving with the masses of students towards the carriage doors. As they flooded out into the bright July sun, Susan grabbed his hand and pulled him towards where her aunt and his mother were standing.

"Mum!"

Neville felt his lips pull into a wide smile as he hurried over to his mother. Somehow — he wasn't sure how she managed it — his mum scooped him up into her arms and swung him round.

"Neville, hi," she said as she placed him back on the platform and beamed widely at him. "How was your journey home? You look happy and healthy. Your dad owes me four galleons — you need new robes again!"

Neville found himself smiling so much as he answered his mum's questions that his cheeks were hurting by the time they got back home. Greeted by the same shower of affection from his dad, Neville found himself unwinding easily.

After a year of Basilisk attacks and not knowing when someone else was going to turn up petrified, Neville needed it. He'd not really been worried about himself, but about Dean, Hermione — anyone who was a Muggleborn, really. Yes, he had been afraid, but he'd tried his best to appear brave. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor, despite how much time he spent in the Hufflepuff Common Room.

When Neville finally got into his own bed, back at his own home, he fell asleep before a single negative thought could ruin his chance at a peaceful night.

* * *

The sun woke Neville the next morning. A slither of light had cast itself across his bedroom floor, across his bed, and onto his pillow, causing him to wake up with beads of sweat on his forehead.

He rolled over and dropped his face into the pillow. He had been hoping that he would be able to lie in on his first morning, but if he was even going to try, he would have to open the balcony doors. Reluctantly, Neville pushed himself up and threw the covers back, sighing. His eyes drifted to the clock as he went to let some fresh air into the room. It was gone ten; his mum would never normally have let him sleep in so long. It was strange.

Outside, the day was just as beautiful as the previous one, the sky crystal clear and the sun beating down on the garden. Maybe, he thought to himself, he should just get up now and not waste the day — his dad would say he was. It was a little strange that no one had woken him up earlier.

He changed quickly, straining his hearing for the sound of the radio, or his mum's singing, or his dad trying to build something. For some reason, Dad liked to do things the Muggle way.

Neville couldn't hear a thing. He threw his clothes on and headed out into the corridor. "Mum? Dad?"

Perhaps they'd gone out, maybe for a walk. Neville took the stairs fast, listening to his own feet against the carpet. The house was still quiet; something felt not quite right. If his parents were going out, usually they would tell him. This felt out of place, like they might jump out at him for some reason.

His hand on the banister, Neville stopped and called out again. "Hello? Mum? Dad? Hello, anyone?"

He pushed open the nearest door and a bright flash of red filled his vision. The Stunning Spell hit him hard in the stomach and knocked him back into the staircase. Neville's vision swam, darkness rushing in at the corners of his eyes, and the last thing he saw was the ceiling.

* * *

"You know, you can get a lot for a kidney on the black market."

Those were the first words Neville was aware of being said, and the voice that was speaking was not that of his mum or dad. It was high-pitched, girly even — it was a voice that he didn't recognise at all.

"Stay away from him." That voice belonged to his mum, low and angry; Neville very rarely heard her voice like that. It terrified him. "You're here for Frank and me, not for my child, you twisted bitch."

Neville was now acutely aware that his arms were bound together where he lay on the carpet. He flinched when the mystery woman laughed. "Oh, look at that, Rodolphus. Mama Bear wants to protect her cub; isn't that sweet?"

"Not as sweet as the Galleons we'd get for his parts on the black market," a gruff voice responded.

Neville's body shook violently and he cracked an eye open, finding himself on the floor of the lounge. The room was strewn with things: glass, feathers from torn-apart pillows, books... His dad was lying face down on the floor just a few feet away and he couldn't help but gasp aloud. The three people he could see all turned to him and Neville froze in fear. His mum's hair was matted with blood on one side and she looked suddenly terrified.

A shadow was cast across Neville from behind; the sun had been streaming in on his back from the patio doors.

"Well, lookie here, boys. The ickle Longbottom has woken up," the black-haired woman cooed, twizzling her wand in one of her curls of hair.

Someone behind him dragged him to his feet and Neville automatically tried to pull away. "G-Get off me."

He hadn't expected it to work, so when the wizard behind him pulled him back, pinning him against his chest, he wasn't a bit surprised. He was desperate not to show them how scared he was. Neville chewed on the inside of his cheek as the woman, who was clearly in charge, approached.

"Don't you dare—"

The woman flicked a spell at Neville's mum and she fell quiet, her lips moving silently. The only noise coming from his mum was the sound of her struggling against the floor. He felt a cold rage building deep inside him; that was his mum they were hurting; that was his mum they were causing pain to. Then again, Neville was very conscious of the wand tip digging into his neck, so he couldn't do anything — not yet.

"Neville, is it?" the woman asked nonchalantly, as though his parents weren't lying on the floor incapacitated.

"What does it matter?" Neville spat the words, courage coming from somewhere deep inside him as there was a chorus of sarcastic ' _oooo'_ s around him. "Who are you?"

She laughed again, mania sparkling in her grey eyes as she threw her head back. "My name is Bellatrix Lestrange; my husband, Rodolphus, is the man pinning your mother to the floor. His brother, Rabastan, is the man with his wand against your throat. And finally, Barty Crouch is the man who just finished torturing your father before you graced us with your presence."

Neville's eyes snapped to his dad's unconscious figure, sunlight illuminating his pale and bloodied face. The information turned over in his head. Barty Crouch, as in the Minister for Magic? No — that was impossible.

When his wide eyes finally found the fourth man, it was clear that he was definitely not the Minister at all. Not caring particularly about the man, his gaze shifted back to his dad, and fear set painfully in Neville's chest. It occurred to him that whatever he did, they were probably going to die here.

"So Neville," Bellatrix said, tracing her wand down his cheek and making him jerk, "are you going to be like your father? Are you going to fight us too? Or are you going to be as pathetic as your mother, and grovel at our feet?"

There was that rage shooting through his blood again. Before Neville could register his actions, he pulled forward and sunk his teeth into Bellatrix's hand.

He could taste blood.

The woman recoiled in horror, and then almost instantly slapped him so hard his head snapped sideways. "You nasty little boy."

Neville found himself smirking at his small victory, but then Bellatrix's wand drifted to his mum and the sense of triumph vanished fast. Her eyes lingered on Neville as her tongue ran along her top lip. Then, she smiled. " _Crucio_."

His shout was instantly drowned out by his mum's screams. Neville desperately tried to pull away from Rabastan, who held him tight. Bellatrix's eyes never left him — malicious joy bright in them. Neville felt helpless as his mum screamed and writhed on the floor. He had to help her; somehow, he had to protect his mum because no one else could. His head spun with options and then, suddenly, a moment of clarity. Neville, whose hands were trapped between him and Rabastan, dug his fingers into the man's groin. He howled in pain, and Neville wrenched himself free and ran directly at Bellatrix, knocking her to the floor.

His mum stopped screaming, but then three spells hit him at once. Now, it was his turn to scream out in pain.

It was like nothing he had ever felt. It felt as though he was being burnt alive; there was a sharp pain throbbing in his right leg. Neville was gasping for air that wasn't there. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back — binds gone — and there were stars behind his eyes that obscured the room from his vision. Nearly as soon as his sight came back, there was a foot pressing down on his injured leg and a wand pointed at his face.

Neville bit hard into his lip. The pain was excruciating, but he was desperate to ignore it. He had to be brave — for his mum.

"You know, we considered going to The Burrow, didn't we, boys?" Bellatrix asked from somewhere behind him. "Those Weasleys would have been easy to break, and yet, I'm rather glad we came here instead. Even though your parents were both useless to our cause, you have fire inside you, and I'm going to enjoy extinguishing it."

"Mum was right," Neville responded through teeth gritted from the agony he was experiencing. "You are a twisted bitch."

"It's one of my many, _many_ positive traits," Bellatrix replied, before turning to the man supposedly named after the Minister for Magic. "Go and wake Neville's _daddy_."

Her facial expressions were manic and excitable like a small child. It was wrong; it was messed up. And with Rabastan pressing his foot firmly down on what Neville suspected was a broken bone, he was going nowhere.

Barty kicked Dad awake and he sucked air into his lungs as though he was bursting to the surface of a lake for air. "Alice… Alice. Alice. Nev-Neville—"

Neville watched as his dad tried to push himself up only to be kicked back down again. Barty raised his wand and cast the Cruciatus Curse. Feeling as though he was watching from behind a thick glass wall, Neville's dad's mouth opened soundlessly, his fingernails scratching at the carpeted floor.

"Stop. Stop, please stop," Neville cried.

No one listened. Barty never stopped; not until Neville's dad was babbling nonsense into the carpet and his mum was sobbing. Neville wanted to cry too, his face was wet with tears, and yet he couldn't quite bring himself to really cry. With Dad no longer making any sense, Neville felt a duty to protect his mum in anyway he could.

"Don't hurt Mum anymore, please," Neville said, as Bellatrix spun her wand between her fingers.

"Like mother, like son, both begging me for mercy," Bellatrix teased.

Her eyes shifted between the both of them and then she clicked her fingers at Barty and pointed him over to where Rodolphus had tight hold of Neville's Mum before turning to Rabastan and Neville. "Help our poor baby to his feet."

Neville hissed at the sardonic term of endearment.

Pain shot through him as Rabastan heaved Neville to his feet. The man was clearly furious that Neville had pulled one on him before.

"Touch me again and I will personally make sure you end up like your father," the dark-haired man hissed in Neville's ear as he dragged him over to Bellatrix.

Every movement made Neville want to cry out in pain. Forced onto his knees and frozen in position so that his broken leg didn't give way underneath him, Neville was trapped. Kneeling opposite his mother, she gave him a long sorrowful look. "It's okay, Neville, honey. It's going to be okay."

Bellatrix stroked Neville's hair before she buried her hand in the back of his blonde hair and pulled down sharply. "You can tell her the same thing if you'd like. Mummy's going to die whatever, especially after she flung the killing curse at my husband, but if it would make you feel better you can tell her it will be okay."

That was a lie; he couldn't tell his mum a lie.

* * *

It could have easily been a few minutes watching his mother writhe and scream under repeated torture, but in reality it must have been hours. The light had started to fade in the room; every time Neville spoke or tried to fight the curse holding him frozen, forced to watch, Rabastan had kicked or punched him, hissing for him to be quiet.

Once Neville's mother was on the brink of insanity, like his father, Bellatrix moved behind him. She wrapped an arm around his neck and outstretched Neville's arm alongside her wand, pointed at the shaking figure of his mum.

"We're going to do this bit together, Neville," she muttered, her cheek against his ear.

Unable to move, Neville let a sob escape his lips. "Please, no."

He felt a compulsion charm come across him as his fingers wrapped around Bellatrix's wand hand; he couldn't stop it. He couldn't fight it.

"Three, two… one." Each number of Bellatrix's countdown made him feel sick and then her hand moved. "Crucio."

Another soundless scream broke free of his mum, her throat raw from the hours of screaming before. Neville felt Bellatrix's magic burning through him. He felt humiliation at not being strong enough; fear and rage threatening to break free from inside of him; exhaustion threatening to make him pass out. So many thoughts had streaked through Neville's brain, he wondered why he had never been under the illusion that they might be saved. That thought had never crossed his mind.

And yet, as his mum dropped to the floor, a series of cracks filled the room.

Neville's leg gave out and he crumpled to the floor, curling up. The room was filled with flashes of light, screams of curses and then finally a resounding silence. Everything moved in slow motion as Neville crawled closer to his mother. "Mum... Mum say something, please."

No words left her mouth. Her pupils just darted side to side, unfocused entirely. As the Aurors swept the room, a woman with pale blue hair gently pulled him away and helped him outside. Away from the destruction of the lounge; away from the four incapacitated intruders; away from the babbling of his dad.

The sun beat down on them as the Auror spoke softly to his right. Neville's eyes focused on the colours painting the sky pink as the summer's weather started to merge into night. How could a day that could have been so beautiful suddenly be so horrible?

He was so tired.

Without taking in a single word of the Auror sat at his side, Neville was no longer able to keep going. He passed out on the patio, his last thought being a desperate plea that would never come true.

He just wanted this to be a nightmare.

* * *

 **Comp/Challenge & Prompts: **

**\- QLFC Finals Round Two:** B: Bellatrix Lestrange, The Burrow, Basilisk, Backpack

 **\- Bath Bomb Appreciation Challenge:** 2\. Azure Skies - Set your story on a beautiful sunny day.

 **\- Insane House Challenge:** 535\. Plot Point - Pretending not to be afraid

 **\- Fanfiction Resolution Challenge:** Write an AU that you've never written before

 **\- 365 Prompts Challenge Dialogue** : 108. "You know, you can get a lot for a kidney on the black market."

 **\- Wandlore Task #1:** Write about a character who is canonically depicted as 'lacking' in something (such as Neville or Peter) to have a big, dramatic personality.

 **\- The Yule Ball:** 14\. Getting Drunk on Spiked Punch - Write about Mad-Eye Moody (or Barty Crouch).

 **\- Book Club:** Penny: (word) illusion, (action) humiliating someone, (character) Bellatrix Lestrange

 **\- Television Show of the Month:** Jim Moriarty: (character) Barty Crouch Jr., (object) Apple, (occupation) Criminal

 **\- Liza's Loves:** Title: House of the Devil

 **\- Count Your Buttons:** Object: Radio, Character: Rodolphus Lestrange, Word: Repeat(ed)

 **\- Dragon Appreciation Challenge**

 **Word Count:** 2983 — not inc. notes, titles, or ANs.


End file.
